


Calore Della Notte

by tqpannie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-23
Updated: 2005-10-23
Packaged: 2018-10-25 13:17:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10765023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tqpannie/pseuds/tqpannie
Summary: Hermione catches Ron skinny dipping in the lake. What could happen?





	Calore Della Notte

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

Hermione cursed softly as she kicked the sheets completely off. It was hot—so hot that she couldn’t sleep. Except—it wasn’t only the heat keeping her awake. She couldn’t get the image of Ron eating that ice cream out of her head. The way his lip had curled around the spoon and his eyes had slid shut in enjoyment. Harry had given her a smug smile and raised his eyebrow as she stood to take her leave. She was at her breaking point—she’d actually briefly considered stretching across the table and darting her tongue out to clean the chocolate from the corner of Ron’s mouth. She’d come back to her senses just in time when she realized that she was sitting in the Great Hall and that the man sitting across from her didn’t fancy her at all.

Hermione climbed out of bed and pulled at her night gown. It was clinging to her body and she longed just for a slight breeze from the window. She grabbed her dressing gown from the back of the chair and pinned her Head Girl badge to it—a walk would calm her down, cool her heated flesh, and maybe wear her out enough that she could fall asleep without dreaming of Ron. She placed her wand in her pocket and headed down the stairs. She paused at the bottom, peeking around the corner, and once she assured herself the common room was empty, she made her exit through the portrait.

Hermione sighed as the night air hit her skin. It was still hot but definitely cooler than inside the castle. She began a brisk walk across the grounds and headed towards the lake. She realized how much she was going to miss this place—it was home for her now. She couldn’t imagine not coming back in the fall but she had taken a job in the Department of Mysteries and was looking forward to the challenge. She reached the path by the lake and as she walked she picked up on the distinctive sounds of splashing water. She grinned—oh how she hoped it was Harry and Ginny. She’d love to have something to hold over his head—especially after that smile during dinner. She silently made her way through the grass leading to the banks of the lake and found her first piece of evidence—a school tie. She continued on, picking up items of clothes until she reached a pair of boxers. Her heart raced and she felt a tremble in her hands when she picked them up—Orange boxers.

He was in the lake—swimming—completely starkers. Her eyes drifted across the moonlit water and she saw him and her heart stopped beating. He was floating on his back, his chest totally exposed, and she couldn’t help but wish that she was one of the drops of water she could see glistening in the moonlight. He must have felt her stare and stood up in the water, peering at the shore, and she watched spellbound as droplets of water slid across his skin. Her stomach clenched in a painful knot of desire and she bit back a moan.

“Hermione?”

Hermione took a deep breath and shivered at the sound of his voice. What was wrong with her? Even his voice turned her on! She tried not to stare as a drop of water trailed across his cheek and to the corner of his mouth. She had never wanted a drink of water so badly in her entire life.

“Ronald Weasley!” She adopted her best Mc Gonagall voice. “What in blazes are you doing!”

“Swimming—cooling off! It’s hot as hell in that bloody castle!”

“You’re Head Boy! You’re suppose to set an example!”

“Keep your voice down; I’d like to remain head boy... Wait a minute—you’re out of bed too!”

“That’s different!”

“Oh, is it? What would the ickle first years say if they saw their Head Girl down at the lake in her nightgown?”

She could feel her face growing hot as he raked his eyes up and down her body. There was something different in his gaze—it was as though he could see right through her dressing gown. She was melting under his gaze and reveled in the fact that he was not as immune to her as he pretended to be.

“Honestly, Ron—at least I’m not starkers.”

He smirked at her and raised his eyebrow. “How do you know I’m starkers—were you peeking?”

“Of course not!” she said furiously, and waved his boxers in front of her. “I believe these are yours.”

She saw a blush rising on his cheeks but then it faded and he gave her a cheeky smile. She cursed silently as she felt another tug of desire almost consume her. His smile always got to her—whether it was the lopsided grin or smirk. He had the most beautiful smile—it lit up his whole face.

“You know, Hermione, the water feels great. Why don’t you come on in?”

“I’m perfectly happy right here. Honestly, we should go back to the dorms.”

She didn’t want to—Merlin she didn’t. She wanted to join him in the water and wipe away the droplets of water that were clinging to him... with her lips.

“You don’t have the bollocks to come in here,” he taunted, “you’re too prissy.”

Prissy! She’d show him prissy! Damn him for getting under her skin this way!

“Turn around!”

“You want another look at my arse? Exactly how long were you watching me?”

Hermione clenched her teeth and hissed, “Turn around or you can just swim by yourself.”

She was pleased to see his eyes widen in disbelief and he slowly turn his back to her. She untied the dressing gown and in one swift motion removed her nightgown. She stood there a moment and bit her lip. She shouldn’t do this...she was playing with fire... and the night was hot enough.

The idea hit her as she slipped into the water—he was going to pay for calling her prissy. She heard him yelp and try to spin away when her hands closed over his calves and pulled him under the water. She emerged a few feet away and laughed as he came sputtering to the surface.

“You’ll pay for that one, Hermione!” he said, and an evil look crossed his face.

She didn’t hesitate—in a flash, she was off swimming, and she squealed when she felt his hands close around her ankles. She managed to take a deep breath before he pulled her under the water, and she laughed as she surfaced. His hand was poised to splash her and she immediately tried to stand so she could return the favor. She let out a surprised gasp when her toes didn’t find the bottom of the lake and she sunk under the water.

When she surface she could tell he was trying very hard not to laugh. His lips were clamped shut and the corners of his mouth were twitching.

“Oh, go ahead and laugh, you prat!” She swam towards him and when she was in front of him she tried once again to reach the bottom of the lake. He burst out chuckling when she started to sink under the water again. Her hands grabbed his arms instictively and she pulled herself higher in the water. She inadvertenly brushed against him and his laughter trailed off. She suddenly realized the position they were in.

Her eyes lifted to meet his and she could feel his muscles flexing under her fingertips. Her eyes traced his features before drifting down to look at the scars she could feel under her finger tips. She ran her thumb over the slightly puckered flesh and she saw a tremor pass through the skin there.

“Does it hurt still? I mean, does it ever twinge?”

“No,” he said, his voice sounding lower than normal and more effected, “not really.”

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop herself, and she raised a hand to his temple. She touched the small scar that was there—evidence of the first time he had thrown himself in harms way to protect her and Harry. She traced it with her fingernail and her other hand drifted to his shoulder.

“We need to head back to the dorm,” he whispered. He opened his eyes and look down at her. She was surpirsed to see the heat in them, the fire, and most of all, the blantant desire.

She moved closer to him and bit her lip as their bodies brushed together. Her bare breasts brushed against his chest and she felt her nipples harden to stiff points. The feeling of his hard body against hers, his cool skin under the her fingers—fueled her desire into an inferno that threatened to consume her.

“Why?”

She toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck and she trembled as his hands slid under the water to grip her hips. His gaze was darting from her eyes to her lips and she could feel the tightly controlled desire he felt for her flowing between them in waves. Did he even know she wanted him? Merlin, she’d give up magic for just a taste of those lips. One taste...

“It’s late, we could get caught.”

His head was lowered and she could feel his breath against her lips. She could feel his erection pressing against her stomach and she squeezed her thighs together as pressure built in her center.

“We shouldn’t do this,” he continued, and she could almost feel his lips on hers.

“You’re right, it wouldn’t be proper,” she whispered, tightening her grip on his shoulders.

“So you agree we shouldn’t?”

God, he was so close. He smelled like fresh air and water and it was playing havoc with her over-wrought senses.

“It couldn’t ruin everything,” she whispered and tilted her head forward, brushing his lips with hers. Desire slammed through her and she whimpered softly.

“It wouldn’t be right.” He brushed her lips with his and drew back slightly to look down at her. The air around them crackled with electricity and she pulled their bodies so they were flush against each other.

“It feels right, though, doesn’t it?”

She couldn’t help it—she darted her tongue out and captured the drop of water that was trailing towards the corner of his mouth. His grip on her hips tightened and their eyes met.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, “I don’t give a fuck about proper.”

“Don’t curse...”

Her reply was cut off by his lips descending on hers. His tongue traced her lips and she willingly opened hers to allow him entrance. Hermione lost the ability to think; she could only feel, and she moaned against his lips. His hands were sliding up her hips, sending darts of pleasure directly to her center, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

He lifted his lips from hers to trail kisses across her jaw before nibbling on her earlobe.

“Is this a dream?” he whispered into her ear. “Tell me you want me... that you ache for me...”

She ran a hand down the hard muscles of his arm and grabbed his wrist. He moaned when she placed his hand on her center and guided his finger through her folds. Her head flew backwards and she let out a whimper as he began caressing her in earnest. He teased her clit, rubbing it softly, and then he boldly slid a finger inside of her.

“Does that answer your question? Or do you need to hear how you haunt my dreams, that I wake up sweaty and calling your name, and that when I watched you eating that ice cream tonight....” A small sob escaped her and she shifted restlessly in time with his hand. “When I was alone in my dorm I came screaming your name and picturing what your tongue could do.”

“Fuck!”

His lips claimed hers again in an open-mouthed kiss. Their desire fed in to each other’s as their tongues danced together. He explored her mouth, kissing her as though he was a man dying of thirst, and his fingers were drawing her to a point of pleasure that Hermione hadn’t dreamed was possible.

He tore his lips from hers and used his free hand to cup her breast. Her lips fell open in a silent moan as he lowered his head and tugged her nipple between his lips. She was drowning in desire, his mouth was so hot against her, and she was quickly being consumed by the fire between them.

“So beautiful...so beautiful...” He murmured against her skin as he flicked her nipple with his tongue.

“Ron.. I need...”

“Tell me you’re mine.” He lifted his head to stare into her eyes. “Tell me!”

He slid another finger inside her and she cried out. He was brushing his thumb across her clit harder and she lightened her legs around his waist.

“I’m yours...only yours...”

He slid his fingers from her and she let out a disappointed moan at the loss. He lifted her up to press their chests together and she could feel him there at her entrance. Her eyes widened when he raised a shaking hand to push her fringe off her forehead.

“I can still stop...”

His teeth were clenched and she felt a tidal wave of love wash over her. She pressed her lips to his, pausing to nibble his bottom lip, and she slid her hand between them to trail her finger over his hardness. Blind need overwhelmed her when she felt the contrast between silky skin and the underlying hardness.

“I want you...Ron, I need you...”

She shifted restlessly against him and his cock slid between her folds. He thrust his hips forward and bucked against her clit. She had never seen him look so powerful and his whole body shook with the effort of not burying himself inside her.

“Fuck me...I need you to fuck me, Ron.”

She used her hand to guide him back to her entrance and he lowered his lips to her again. His tongue thrust past her open lips and she moaned against his lips. He pulled his lips from hers and their eyes met and locked.

“I love you,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving hers, and he finally plunged inside her.

Hermione felt a twinge of pain and bit her lip. He was holding so still, allowing her to get use to the feeling of having him inside her, and she shifted her hips against him.

“I love you too...” she whispered, her voice catching on a sob when he began to move inside her.

Their eyes remained locked as they moved together in a rhythm older than time. She could feel the pleasure building in her as he thrust strongly against her. His hands traced over her body, teasing her nipples, before sliding to her center. He slid his finger just above where they were joined and began rubbing her in earnest.

“Harder...”

He complied immediately and she felt heat flowing through her veins. Her hips moved in counterpoint to his and she heard him whispering her name.

“You feel so good...better than I dreamed...so wet and tight...”

“You dreamed of me?” Just the thought threatened to push her over the edge. She moaned as he pulled out completely before slamming back into her again.

“Every night for the last three years... In my dreams, you come screaming my name over and over... will you scream my name? I want to hear you scream my name.” His words trailed off into a growl as she raked her nails up and down his back. He increased the tempo yet again; each of his thrusts caused her breasts to scrape against the hairs on his chest, and Hermione felt herself on the edge.

She did exactly as he ask when he pressed his fingers against her clit and slammed into her. Waves of pleasure consumed her and she shook as she screamed out his name over and over.

“That’s it, come for me...you’re so fucking beautiful!”

He was thrusting hard into her and her eyes flew open as he let out a hoarse shout. She watched his face clench in esctasy and his head fell back and he spilled inside her. She heard him call out her name hoarsley and then his head fell to her shoulder to burrow in the crook of her neck.

They stayed joined, bodies quivering with aftershocks, and he slowly lifted his head to meet her eyes.

“Did you mean what you said?” he asked softly. His voice shook with emotion, and she lifted a shaking hand to cup his cheek.

“Have you ever known me to say something I didn’t mean?”

“You love me? I’m not nearly good enough for you, Hermione. You deserve better.”

“There is no one better, Ron.” She placed several quick kisses on his lips. “I’ve loved you for so long I can’t imagine loving anyone else.”

“Hermione, thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me be your first...for being mine.”

Hermione was overwhelmed; she’d believed he’d had experience. Her brow furrowed in concentration and then she thought of something.

“That book Fred and George gave you,” she said softly, “that wasn’t a spell book was it?”

“Errr...no.”

She was surprise to see him blush and she hesitated. “What was it?”

“A Wizard’s guide to sex.”

She grinned and arched her eyebrow. “Is it in your dorm?”

He looked confused and nodded his head. He slid from inside her and she moaned softly at the loss.

“Why don’t you get it and Harry’s invisibilty cloak.”

“I hate to ask this, but why?”

“No questions, just meet me in my room.”


End file.
